


Always Obedient

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Ambiguity, Canon Compliant, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Manipulation, Might not, Missing Scene, Moral Ambiguity, Obedience Kink, One Shot, Oops, Period-Typical Homophobia, Praise Kink, Wet Dream, alleyway blowjobs, and more - Freeform, could be grindle!graves, dub-con all over the joint, that needs to be a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence often dreams of Mister Graves, but tonight, his dream takes a turn for the sinful...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Giggle Water](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743393) by [spunknbite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spunknbite/pseuds/spunknbite). 



> hahaha so this is all seasons-gredence 's fault and im totally fucking off and around and avoiding the mermaid au smut sorry oops. this may have a part two idk yet. i feel like it'll basically rehash shit thats already been written, and ALLEYWAY BLOWJOBS have been done so much now (gloriously) they need to be a tag. pls. ao3 get on it.
> 
> enjoy this filthy sin. and it is purposefully ambiguous, could be real!graves being naughty or grindle!graves being just...such a tease.  
> who knows?
> 
> also i'm linking Giggle Water cause it is among those with the 'alleyway blowjob' trope that this ship is being known for, and well, its fucking hot. go read it.

Cold.

He was so cold.

It was all Credence could think about, and as he tossed and turned, he thought of Mister Graves. Doing so always caused a forbidden heat to wash over him, and that night was no different.

The pendant the man had given him was far away, on his small and rickety bedside table, and surely the metal would only make him colder, so he did not reach for it, but instead, conjured up an image of Mister Graves in his mind.

He was the kind of man Credence would never have thought it acceptable to call beautiful, but he was. As he began to drift off to a fitful sleep, he suddenly felt warmth, true warmth, on his shoulder. Like a hand, that was gripping over his body and a voice whispered in his ear,

“Credence, what’s wrong?”

He shifted against his threadbare sheets and pillow so flat he might as well have been sleeping on the bare mattress, and kept his eyes squeezed shut tight, as he fought to cling to the dream.

Mister Graves kept one hand on his arm, and brought the other to his face, caressing his cheek, as he had before, once, when they’d met in the alleyway three blocks down from the church, and he’d told him how he’d be honored, among his kind, in the magical world, when he had helped the man find the child.

“I’m…”

He tried to speak, but Mister Graves was making soothing sounds, and turning him over onto his back, forcing him to look up at him.

He was surrounded by a glowing haze, and it wasn’t from the moonlight, it was the cast of the dream. Rarely did he dream in color, but tonight, it seemed he had.

How could he not see Mister Graves in all his perfection?

“You’re freezing, here, come on, sit up.”

Mister Graves had dragged his hand down Credence’s chest, to grasp one of his delicate wrists, and indeed, his skin was chilled, but under the man’s hand, it was slowly warming.

But he wasn’t stopping there, he put his arm around Credence, and pulled him to his strong and broad chest, against his shirt and vest and the silk of his scarf, he imagined it felt like water, if it could be turned into fabric.

“Is that better?”

Credence pressed his cheek against the solid warmth of Mister Graves’ neck and nodded.

“It’s not quite enough though…”

Mister Graves was pulling a hand back, and Credence found himself chasing after it, until he realized what the man was doing. Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, having loosened his tie, exposing more skin, and then the hand was back on his face, drawing him once again to his body, and Credence felt feverish from it all, and he knew he had to be turning bright red.

Red as the flames of hell surely, for it was where his dream would send him upon waking.

“Hmmm?”

Mister Graves was asking him something, but he’d gotten lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by so much skin to skin contact, and the man’s other hand was rubbing slow circles over his back, nearly burning through his pajamas almost.

“Th-thank you.”

“Of course dear boy, no point in you being so cold you can’t be well rested.” He needed to be well rested to find the child, to help Mister Graves properly, otherwise he was useless. He knew.

Credence glanced up at him from beneath heavy lidded eyes, for he was so relaxed, now that he wasn’t shivering beneath thin blankets,

“But I am resting, aren’t I?”

He blinked, and there was still a silvery glow to Mister Graves, whose dark eyes were almost hypnotizing to his own,

“Indeed. But to bring me to you, like this, in a _dream_ , that takes true power. You have some magic in you, you just didn’t know it.”

Credence was biting his lip, he couldn’t help it. The thought that he might be capable of such a thing, that he and Mister Graves could ever have anything in common, was unbelievable, but he was so desperate to want it.

“Do you want to have a taste of more magic? I promised to teach you, but I can do something here, now, that might temporarily aid you.”

Credence was nodding before Mister Graves had even finished,

“Please.”

The hand at his back shifted to grasp at his neck, and Credence felt like his center of gravity was Mister Graves and him alone.

“Dear boy, you do not make this easy.”

Before Credence could ask what he meant, his body was pressing against him, pushing him into the mattress, and Mister Graves was moving his mouth atop his own, stealing his breath away.

He was kissing him!

It was something wrong, sinful, and yet, it was only a dream… no one had to know how badly Credence was defiling himself.

He squirmed slightly under the man’s larger body, which was a warm and welcome weight over his own much slimmer one, and he could feel something hard against his hip, through the fabric of Mister Graves’ pants and his pajamas, and a sharp jolt of heat shot down his spine.

It was like the feelings he got anytime Mister Graves touched him in reality, but tenfold.

Mister Graves broke away from him to kiss his cheek, his jaw, down his neck, nipping at a spot that made his vision go pure white for a moment.

“Oh god.”

He found himself blaspheming, and he could feel Mister Graves’ laughter vibrating through his chest.

“Feels good?”

“Very much so Mister Graves.”

The man hummed against his skin, before shifting up to kiss him again, his hot tongue slipping between Credence’s lips, causing further sin, and darker thoughts, wondering how it might feel to do so in the alleyway, to let the man push him into the brick wall, trap him with his body, and take his soul through his mouth.

It could happen, it seemed.

“So polite, so formal. Just ‘sir’ will do.”

Credence wasn’t sure why that order sent another shiver down his spine, but he nodded, desperately trying to shift his hips beneath the man’s.

“So eager, so wanton. Does your mother know you’re such a whore for me?”

“N-no sir, I would never tell her about you.”

“Good boy.”

Mister Graves was dragging a hand down the length of his body, sliding between where he was aligned over top him, just barely grazing his palm over Credence’s aching cock, and he whimpered so loud he wondered if the sound had transferred into the real world.

“Sir, please…”

“What is it Credence, what do you want?”

Mister Graves was murmuring in his ear, lips just shy of kissing him there, and Credence was dying, drowning in his need,

“Touch me.”

“Like this?”

His hand wrapped around Credence’s shame, through the almost nonexistent fabric, and he wished he could will it away, but in dreams, he seemed to have little control or power.

But he had brought Mister Graves there, so maybe he could ask, and it would be granted.

“No, without anything in the way.”

“Hmm, I see what you mean.”

Mister Graves said, and without a word, Credence’s pajamas vanished, and he could only feel the man’s clothing rubbing against his bare skin, and the hand on his cock was now hot, rough, and so delicious it was like nothing he’d ever known. He couldn’t touch himself; it was a sin like nothing else. Sometimes, in the dark of night, before he could sleep, he would imagine Mister Graves doing just that, commanding him to touch himself, to break all the rules he’d ever known, right before him, kneeling in the cold alleyway, hard stone biting into his arm as he braced himself against the ground, his other hand jerking fast, trying to please Mister Graves, always just for him.

He was brought back to the moment in the dream as Mister Graves began to move, shifting down his body, lips burning his skin, trailing down past his stomach, just shy of where the man’s hand still held him, fingers barely stroking up and down his aching cock.

“What are you doing sir?”

“Touching you.”

Never in any of his wildest nighttime or day dreams had Credence pictured Mister Graves doing such a thing, so he could only imagine it was the magic, drawing upon an unknown desire and bringing it to life in that moment.

Mister Graves was kissing his inner thigh, then he was putting his lips on his cock, and the sensation was truly like drowning in a feeling that was pure light, the complete opposite of how he would feel after a beating. The pain was all he had ever known, so the experience was foreign, and he never wanted to forget it.

Clinging to the memory of a dream always seemed to make them fade faster, however, so even as he treasured what Mister Graves did to him, he was afraid.

He didn’t want to lose it.

“What’s wrong?”

Mister Graves had stopped, had pulled away, but kept his hand on Credence, kept him arching his back and begging for things he didn’t know, but he could feel that his cheeks were wet, and he realized he was crying.

“I can’t do this, can’t let myself want something I can never have.”

Mister Graves was moving back up his body, and pressing a fierce kiss to his lips, tasting of something like salt water, which he used when his throat hurt, but never swallowed it.

“Sweet boy, you merely have to ask, and all your dreams can come true. I promise you. Now, it’s almost time for you to wake up, and we’ll see each other again soon, very soon.”

Credence nodded, and watched as the haze shifted, as Mister Graves stood up and back, waving his wand silently, returning his pajamas to his body, before vanishing in a flash of light.

When Credence woke up in the morning, he couldn’t help putting a hand to his mouth, fingers tracing where Mister Graves had kissed him in the dream.

It had felt so real.

*

The boy had almost been too easy to convince. It was really like cheating, Percival knew. When he apparated into the alleyway the next afternoon, the boy was already shrinking back against the side of brick wall, eyes dropping to Percival’s feet, and cheeks turning pink.

“Mister Graves, I-I-I haven’t found anything new about the child. I’m sorry.”

He stalked towards him, feeling like a predator hunting their prey, which he was, in a manner of speaking.

“Credence, what’s wrong? You seem distracted.”

He was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, as the boy shook his head,

“No, no sir, just had difficulty sleeping last night. I haven’t been able to hand out any leaflets; I know my mother will be upset.”

Percival sighed, and flicked his wand at the stack of papers Credence was clutching in his hands like a lifeline, and they burst into flames, causing him to drop them with a shout, but the fire would not actually harm him.

“Shhh-hhh. There now, see, nothing to worry about, hmmm?”

Percival stepped closer, planning to give the boy a hug, after all, he seemed to crave any sort of human contact that wouldn’t result in punishment, more evident than ever after the night before, and yet, he still retreated, still hunched over himself, and was trying to hide his body from his eyes.

“Come now, why are you behaving like this? Credence, look at me.”

Ordering him around was cruel, yes, but the boy ate it up like he was born for it. Maybe he was.

Shaking every step of the way, the boy lifted his head, and walked back towards him, palms wringing, pressed into his stomach like it hurt him.

“Please, sir, Mister Graves, I’m sorry. I’m not well I don’t think.”

Percival pulled him into his arms the second he got close enough, and he could still feel the boy quivering against him,

“What’s wrong? Have you got a fever?”

He pressed the back of his hand to the boy’s forehead, and though it didn’t feel unusually hot, considering how cold Credence always was, in the shabby clothing he wore, and even in his own bed, it was possible it was the beginnings of sickness.

“I think so…”

The boy was whispering and so softly, Percival wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been flush to his chest. He could see, without much effort, the boy was hard in his ragged pants, and it had been what he was trying to hide. It gave him an idea.

“Would you like something hot to drink?”

At first, Percival had only pure intentions with the query, but when Credence looked up at him with wide eyes, and he noticed how reddened the boy’s lips were from the ‘dream’ kisses he’d been given, he decided he would be kind afterwards, later. He’d feed the boy, oh yes, and then bring him home to play with, just for a while.

“Yes.”

The boy said it like a prayer, gasping and gulping a breath down, and Percival smiled,

“Get on your knees.”

*

Mister Graves had one hand on his face, cupping his cheek, and it was so much like his dream, but better. The cold concrete was painful on his kneecaps, but Credence had never felt warmer. Hidden from view of passersby in the folds of Mister Graves large coat, and a spell he called _‘muffilato’_ , so that they would not be noticed.

Mister Graves undid the front of his pants and pulled out his hardened cock, and Credence tried to keep his expression composed, but was failing already.

“Sir I-”

“Shhh-hh. Open your mouth.”

Credence did as he was told, and Mister Graves first rubbed the tip of his cock over his lips, wetting them slightly with a clear sort of liquid that was leaking from it, and then pushed it further inside of his mouth, and he could taste the same bitter and salty flavor he’d remembered from his dream, after the man had kissed _him_ there.

“Good boy. Just like that, careful with your teeth.”

Mister Graves’ eyes began to close as Credence carefully moved forward, feeling his cock slide against his throat, and his tongue curved underneath, pressing against the underside of his length, trying to be good, trying to do what he could to make the man continue to want to help him.

Mister Graves brought his other hand to the back of Credence’s head, pulling him closer, making his cock go so deep into his mouth that his nose brushed against the dark swirls of hair that were below his navel, he fought to breath, but it was very difficult.

“Through your nose, that’s right.”

Mister Graves’s voice sounded very strained, as if he was in pain, and Credence wanted to stop, needed to know if he was okay, but the hand at the back of his neck tightened suddenly, almost painful, and the man’s hips started moving, pulling his cock out, and then pushing back inside his mouth, aided by the slickness of his saliva, and it was obscene, he felt disgusted with himself, hoped Mister Graves wouldn’t open his eyes and look down to see how he looked, almost making a mess of the man’s shoes with his drool.

Unfortunately, he didn’t quite get his wish, but when Mister Graves did see him, he didn’t look angry, not at all, in fact, he looked rather like he’d never seen something so beautiful in his life.

Credence swallowed around the man’s cock and he groaned.

“You’re so perfect, so good, I’m going to come now, don’t move.”

Credence did as he was told, and when he felt hot jets of something salty coating over his tongue, he knew in that moment what Mister Graves had said was true.

He had given him something.

Mister Graves was breathing hard, and he pulled back slowly, still stroking Credence’s face with his hand, as if unable to see the slick mess that was his mouth and his chin.

“You look so pretty like this. But we don’t want any strange questions do we?”

Credence just shook his head, and Mister Graves chuckled, low and deep in his throat,

“Up you get now.”

He was drawing out his wand, and instead of speaking, he just put his hand on Credence’s face, thumb rubbing over his wet lips, and fingers grasping at his jaw, and he felt coolness from the touch instead of the usual warmth on his skin, and when Mister Graves let go of him, Credence reached up to touch himself, he felt only clean and dry skin. Looking to the black shine of the man’s leather shoes, he saw nothing there, as if it had never happened.

But for the soreness in his throat, and the ache in his jaw.

“Now, how about we get you something to eat, and you can tell me about why you couldn’t sleep last night, hmm?”

Blushing now, after what he’d done might have seemed ridiculous, but Credence couldn’t help the heat that flooded his cheeks, and he nodded slowly.

Mister Graves took his arm, and Credence vanished with the man when he started walking down the alley.

*

**Author's Note:**

> ediot:three minutes later.  
> lets just call this finished til i have less shit on my to-do/to-write list ok? mwua.


End file.
